Feature Writer: Surt Stormhammer <arboc969@hotmail.com>
Feature Title: SUPREME IMMORTAL ART 1
Published: 08.09.2018
Story Codes: TS, Anal
Supreme Immortal Art
1: The Gathering ov Shadows
I gaze out over the forest, watching the setting sun from the side ov a cliff overlooking the valley below. I’ve been riding for a long time to get here at this point. The sky shifts from blue, to golden, and finally fades into a beautiful gunmetal grey, my pale face kissed by the breeze coursing through the verdant trees. I stand next to a goddess, beautiful and benevolent, with an arabesque ov sable hair that spills over her breasts like a waterfall ov molten oil. Her eyes are what keep my attention, big, beautiful and wreathed in thick, black mascara. Her full, pouty lips are so sensuous with her pentagram lip ring. I was the one who bought it for her. I should know how sexy she looks with it in. Her name is Aura.
She turns her beautiful face towards mine, her eyes hungry with the prospect ov conquest. No words are spoken between us. They don’t need to be, for I know what she wants to say from the look in her beautiful eyes. Slowly, I kiss her on the mouth, playing delicately with her lip ring with my tongue. Her breath catches in her throat as I undo the buckles on the back ov her black leather corset, letting it fall to the stony ground in front ov the edge ov the cliff and freeing her voluptuous breasts for me to worship with my fingers and tongue. Slowly, ever so slowly, I nibble my way down her neck, stopping to bite her clavicle as my hands find her hard nipples. Her breasts are the perfect size, big enough to fit comfortably in my large hands, but not too big. Nor too small. They are perfect.
I run my tongue all throughout her breast, suckling on the sweet flesh ov her nipple and eliciting a gasp ov delight as my hands undo the belt and zipper ov her pants, pealing them down her delicious legs and throwing them to the side with the rest ov her clothes. Her black lace panties barely conceal the sizeable bulge from her 9-inch cock. I smell its musky aroma and find myself getting light-headed with the lust welling up inside ov me. It’s so big, even bigger than mine. Licking my lips, I descend upon it, feeling it push to the very back ov my mouth, tickling my tonsils as I taste the salt from her sweat and precum on my tongue.
My goddess runs her dainty fingers through my long, golden hair as she moans my name. “Surt. . . .” I look up into her eyes longingly as the head ov her penis pushes its way down my throat. I love how she fills my mouth up and starts thrusting into my face. Pulling out all the way, a thick strand ov precum mixed with my saliva connects my lips to her mighty girl sword before she thrusts it all the way back in, skullfucking me. I play with her delicious balls as she pumps in and out ov my mouth. Gods, she’s so thick, I feel like I’m strangling. But I love it. I love every second ov it.
Slowly, her thick cock slides out ov my violated mouth, her eyes still possessing that hunger in them for conquest. I run my hand along her cock’s length, feeling it pulsate wildly beneath my ministrations. She’s close to cumming. Ohhhh, I want her to cum so badly for me! I want her to let me know that I had pleased her!
I lick the head ov her cock, devouring the gem ov precum that developed in the absence ov my mouth. She looks down at me, naked but for the pair ov panties clinging to her right thigh. “I want to make you mine,” she whispers in a tone as cold as winter. “Remove your pants!” I love it how she commands me. I love being dominated by my goddess. In a way . . . I think I love her. I remove my pants and underwear, feeling my own hard cock sway as I get on my hands and knees and point my ass into the air. She runs her fingers along my spine, letting her sharpened fingernails claw deep gouges into my back flesh. Gods, it feels so good! And then, I feel something rubbing my pink anus with lubricant. First one, then two, and finally, three fingers penetrate me and I moan and arch my back, trying to get them as deep inside me as I can. It feels so good, as though Freyja Herself had kissed me with a mouthful ov scotch. In and out her fingers move, her knuckles catching on my inner sphincter and sending jolts ov pleasure throughout my pale, slender form. She really knows how to treat her man, that much is certain!
I gaze up at the moon rising into the autumnal night sky, its magnificent presence looming down upon us as I feel the head ov her cock push against my well-lubed anus. And then, all at once, she thrusts all the way to the hilt inside ov me. I scream and collapse to the ground, my arms unable to support my torso while her monstrous cock drills its way past my colon. I feel light-headed from the penetration, and I feel her member planted deep inside me, poking me in the stomach from inside. She withdraws about three quarters ov the way out ov my ravished ass and thrusts in again. I squeal, my voice sounding more and more high-pitched and feminine while she fucks me. No protection, that much is obvious. I feel her hard cock pulsating inside me as a slow blast beat begins from my very core due to her making me her own little buttslut.
She moans my name again as I feel her sultry hands grasp me about my hips and her own breasts pressing against my back while she fucks me, her strokes becoming more and more frantic. I scream bloody murder in pleasure and agony as her cock destroys my bowels. It feels as though I am a butterfly specimen in a scientific research lab, pinned to the wall from my abdomen. Gods, she’s such a big girl! Ohhh, I feel myself cumming from her cock milking my prostate! Just as soon as my orgasm rips through my violated body, I feel her cock thicken and expand, exploding all throughout my insides and bathing my intestines in a thick, salty goo.
Panting, she slides out ov me, her arms wrapped about my waist. “You’re such a good buttslut, aren’t you, Surt?” she coos as she licks my earlobe.
I moan, still feeling the afterglow ov my orgasm possessing my frail body. “I am a good buttslut,” I whisper, turning around to kiss my goddess for giving me the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time. I feel her seed running down my legs out ov my violated anus, mixing with blood from our tryst. I don’t care; it felt incredible, even if it made me bleed.
Getting dressed, Aura looks back at me, naked from the waist down, disdain present in her gaze. “Clean yourself up, slut. We have a concert to be at in the next hour.”
I love how she dominates me and treats me like the trash that I am. The way she treats me affirms my worth to this world. Ov course, the concert she was referring to is a black metal gathering deep in these ancient trees that infest the valley. It is called “The Gathering ov Shadows” and is one ov the most illustrious and yet obscure events in all the United States underground metal scene. It’s completely free to all who attend. The bands that show up can play as many songs as they choose for as long as they desire. And there is a certain magic in The Gathering ov Shadows, from the obscure location where it’s held deep in the Rockies, far away from prying eyes to the bonfires and evil-sounding music that permeates all that is there. An undercurrent ov our reaffirmation as the dregs ov society’s outcasts would be a good way to put how one felt after attending The Gathering ov Shadows. I know I’ve felt that way for as long as I can remember. Long before meeting my goddess Aura.
I clean myself up on the rag that I always bring along when riding my motorcycle. I throw my pants and boots on and check my appearance in the mirror. My goddess joins me on my motorcycle, her dainty arms wrapping around my malnourished waist. “Surt, you’ve lost more weight. . . .” she said concernedly. “Why do you always do that?”
I look back at her beautiful face, smiling as she binds her long, sable hair in a ponytail. “Do what, mistress?” I ask innocently.
She loves it when I call her “mistress”. I love it when she calls me “slut”. She realizes what I’m playing at. I can see it in her beautiful eyes. “You know what, you fucking slut!” Playfully she slaps me across the face. “Eat more! Stop being so godsdamned anorexic!”
I pretended to pout from her striking me. “I’m not doing it on purpose. . . . I have so much stress that I just can’t help it!” She knows that I’m lying. “Besides, my goddess, I want to look beautiful for you!”
Aura smiles and wraps her arms around my slim waist. “You’re already beautiful to me, you silly slut! Come here. . . .” And we embraced. As we got ready for the concert, the moon rose high into the night sky, shining down upon us as we applied our corpse paint and fixed our spikes. That is always the fun part about going to a black metal concert. It’s almost like getting dressed up for Halloween. Me and Aura are quite a couple. She loves grim, hateful black metal and so do I. We also have black metal bands that we’re involved deeply with, but we also help each other out when the need arises. We both wear bullet belts and black leather and corpse paint whenever the mood hits. And let me tell you, dearest reader, tonight it hit us like a stroke from Thor’s hammer!
The concert tonight was going to be a grim one. Clouds were starting to gather in the east, moving steadily towards us almost as in anticipation ov the magic ov The Gathering ov Shadows. There was one drawback for attending the black metal ritual, though. It was by invitation only. Those who were pure ov mind and were promising followers ov the cults behind black metal, and those deeply involved in the scene itself, were usually the only ones who would ever see an invitation.
That was me. I had been working towards this end with my band for many long nights now, a mighty solo project that based its philosophy and lyrics off ov Norse mythology and Asatru ideology called Vinterblot (Winterblood in English). I had received notification ov my invitation in my Myspace account, the primary place where I do all my networking. I still remember how excited I was, that day months ago. I called Aura up to inform her ov my recognition, and then invited her over. Back then, I had no idea she was a shemale or even remotely interested in me in a sexual sense. Back then, we were just close friends who drank together on the weekends, giving each other ideas for songs and album covers.
So, back to the present. The concert was vaunted to be kicked off by the mighty band Teratism, followed by several great folk black metal bands, like Winterskog, Hoest, and Eluidnir. As I read through the pamphlet for The Gathering ov Shadows, I noted that every band attending was a veteran in the US underground black metal scene. It would truly be an event one wouldn’t want to miss. Perchance, it would even be a way to get my band and Aura’s more recognition by the friends we would make tonight!
The wind whips at my face as I drive through the empty woods to the turn-off to the road where the messenger said would lead us to The Gathering ov Shadows. Aura is clutching tightly to my waist, her slender arms wrapping around me comfortably. I smile to myself as I lean into a right turn, the road desolate for miles. It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much fun being a black metaller. Usually people like me are spat upon. Especially people like me. I am bisexual for one, laugh at the “christ-god” for another. And the fact that I’ve always been antisocial and morbid has never really bolstered a positive image from the community in which I dwell. But tonight is all about that. Reaffirming that there are more ov us out there than we think.
I hear Aura’s breath catch uncomfortably in her perfect chest as I make another turn. Three more til the turn-off. Still, I must admit, I am surprised that I was one ov the select few to get the invitation. The premise ov Vinterblot has always been to disassociate itself from everything else. I love my metal grim and hateful as the next black metaller, but the few gems out there who produce thought-provocative music that sets itself away from everything else instead ov mainstream grimness have always been my favorites.
Perhaps it was because ov this perspective I’ve instilled in everything I create and do is why the forebears ov The Gathering ov Shadows had sought me out. I turn again, slowing down to make it easier on my beautiful passenger, feeling her clutching my slender waist gently, almost delicately. They must have their reasons for why they want me to attend this year’s rituals. After all, the forebears for The Gathering ov Shadows always have a purpose for whom they allow to attend.
Aura shifts her weight and smiles as I look back at her from the periphery ov my vision. “How’re you doing back there, mistress?” I ask loudly as I slow to make another turn.
“Good! Thanks for taking the turns a little easier!” she says back loudly, kissing the side ov my face.
At last, we reach the turn-off to get to the rituals. Slowing down and flashing my high-beams at the forsaken road, I remark on how little traffic it must have seen this last year. Thick overgrowth and weeds mar the surface and only two shallow sets ov tire tracks let me distinguish which side ov the road is which. This year is destined to be grim. I can tell from the desolation ov the area where The Gathering ov Shadows is. In the middle ov nowhere. If someone were to get grievously wounded in a fight or the mosh pits, there would be a good chance they’d die and never be found out here.
The darkness ov the ancient copse ov trees enshrouds us in a bleak, decaying green, slowly blending in to the rest ov the blackness around. The illumination from the moon isn’t much help either, almost nothing in comparison to the darkness ov this forest. I feel Aura shiver and snuggle against me as I speed up my motorcycle a bit. I am thankful for the Springfield 1911 hidden in my saddlebag. For good measure, I also brought my Viking-age broadsword. I despise guns and if push comes to shove, I will go for the broadsword, providing that my oppressor doesn’t have a projectile weapon. If he does, then the pistol will be my trump card.
Aura clutches my shoulder tightly. “Can we pull over for a second?” she asks me.
“Sure,” I tell her as I urge my steel horse to the shoulder. The forests seem ominous, almost downright dangerous right now in the failing light ov the accursed sun. But strangely enough, I feel right at home. My senses are at their best in almost no light at night. I’ve always been a night person, hating the accursed sunlight with a passion. One ov the many reasons I’m so pale. Shifting my bullet belt, I hop off and turn to look at my goddess, kneeling beside her. “You’re feeling apprehensive too, huh?”
She nods, her pale skin luminous in the negalight. “What weapons do you have on you?”
“None on me. You already know ov the broadsword. I also have my Springfield in the saddlebag. Get it out and hold onto it.” I don’t want anything bad to happen to us tonight. I’ve never before attended The Gathering ov Shadows, but I am not so trusting ov all the others in the scene. After all, we’re in the middle ov nowhere with a bunch ov drunken metalheads, possibly some who are drugged out. No way would I show up to such an event unarmed!
She slipped it into her purse. Hopping off, she gazed down at me, her eyes glinting in the darkened moonlight. “Get up, slut. Help me into my leather cloak. We’re getting close to the rituals and I want to show up in style!”
I am amazed at how safe she makes me feel here in this negalight forest. I get up and she hugs me tightly. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight, okay?” she whispers, breaking her dominatrix role to be tender with me. “I don’t want to have to shoot someone to save you.”
I kiss her forehead as I help her into her attractive leather cloak. “Ov course, my love. I’ll be just as on guard as you are.” Slipping her cowl off to gaze into her eyes, I kiss her again, loving the feel ov her lips and lip ring against mine.
We get back on my bike and take off, more at ease with the ominousness ov this darkened forest. She holds on as I drive over a series ov washboards in the dirt path, her delicate arms wrapped around my slender waist gently. As the two ov us move through the moonlight-bathed night towards the location where the rituals were to be held, a deep, blood-red glow emanated from the path ahead. I feel Aura shudder as she clings to my waist. This was going to be one hel ov a night!
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE